The duke grew pale with indignation. Sir Abildgaard sprang up, and placed himself, with his hand upon his sword, by the duke's side.
"Call the house-carls," said Lady Ingé to her maidens; and the frightened girls, screaming, ran out of the room to give the alarm: the lofty, earnest maiden herself remained standing, and regarded the enraged men with attention.
"This is not the time and place to prove our strength, Count Alf; and I am no boatman, who will drag a rope against a seahorse," said the duke, with supreme contempt, and laying his hand on his sword. "The wine has proved too strong for you; and what you say to-night, you will scarcely repeat tomorrow. If you were to bear in mind where we are, and what kind of a wind we have, you would perhaps come to your senses," he added, in a haughty, threatening tone. "Here, the Count of Tönsberg is of no more avail than Niels Breakpeace, or any other vile highwayman; and if you do not wish to prove your strength with Danish gaolers, and measure your height with the gallows of Orekrog, you will tame your unbridled, berserk[[18]] courage, without the aid of the house-carls and castle-warden."
They already heard a noise without, and the kitchen-door flew open.
"Bar the passage!" cried Lady Ingé; and the kitchen-door was again closed.
The eyes of the maddened freebooter rolled wildly in his head. He seized a massive silver trencher from the table, and seemed about to hurl it at the duke's head; but, recollecting himself, he was satisfied with twisting the heavy salver into the form of a rope. When he had thus vented his rage, and given his opponents an astonishing proof of his enormous strength, he appeared entirely calm and pacified.
"People don't understand joking in Denmark," he muttered. "We Norse sea-dogs are not accustomed to weigh words. Be at your ease, proud maiden; and sit you quietly down again, my noble young gentlemen. The wine, perhaps, runs a little in my noddle, and so I don't like standing. We sit here tolerably snug. But where is she off to, the little roguish brunette? Let her come hither, and pour out for me; and, death and the devil! you may have all the others: but the first house-carl that sets foot in the room, I will fell him like an ox!"
He now appeared drowsy and heavy-headed, and lolled comfortably back on his chair, as if he would go to sleep; but still kept his eyes half open, whilst his left hand rested on the hilt of his dagger, and in his right was clenched the silver trencher, which he had converted into a heavy truncheon.
"He is inebriated, as you perceive, noble lady," now said the duke, softly, to Ingé, while he offered her his arm, and led her into the farther hall. "Pardon us for having brought with us this rude travelling companion, who is, otherwise, a brave Norse knight, and of noble birth; but, when in this state, there is no controlling him: he becomes crazy, and fancies himself the powerful freebooter, Count Mindre-Alf of Tönsberg. We must, at such times, talk to him after his own fashion; and, in order to tame him, threaten him with rack and gibbet. He will not now rise from the drinking-table so long as there is a drop in the flagon, and therefore we can leave him. When he falls fast asleep, he will suffer himself to be carried on board, like a log, without moving. To-morrow, he will again be the smartest knight in the universe, if he does not dream that he has been Count of Tönsberg to-night."
"It is a singular weakness for a man so strong," replied Lady Ingé, examining the duke with an earnest, penetrating look: "perhaps, also, it was in consequence of his intoxication that he took you for the duke?"